the tea drinkers association.
in the past four years that ive stayed in the hostel...we've grouped and re grouped our sisterhood....all over the cup of cha.
the ritual of coming back from college and drinking our mammoth mugs is comforting beyong explanation.no... we dont choose to hang out with the boys first... and we dont opt to go out to the local ccd and do it in "in stlye." the pavement chawallah sufficed occassionally... but we all agree that the single "cutting"of cha goes down like a tequila shot.

there is a strange fun in scurrying around to loacate a mug.. only to find that it has the previous nights dregs and stains,in the juniors juvenile attemtps to get the quantity of tea leaves,sugar or water etc correct,in the mad marathon to stop the over boiled cha from spilling out of the saucepan... and in deciding whose turn it will be to wash up.

each evening...we witness tears and tantrums,silly giggles and stories of our goof ups... or exmas that have gone bad... and the smart thing we did...
about professors and boys,
about parents and " i want to go hoooooome" ;
about a relatively intelligent topic or the latest recipe to a modified maggi...

there have been girls who have passed out,and have been replaced by fachchas who try to stick to their claim..."i dont drink cha... i drink milk."(haha... weve lost money in betting over the time duration b4 they succumb to the vice.)
we fall sick,we are tired,we are heartbroken and we are lost...
and we are there for each other.we've planned uour lives and our careers.

it has been understood that some will be the perfect housewife...and it has been proved that muy homekeeping skills are limited to washing bartan and i cant "cook"anything other than the holy cha.

the act of asking some one to have cha... its like welcoming who was the social outcast,comforting the girl whose upset for whatever reason,pepping it up... or whatever...
just have cha.
this is muy last year.ive accepted that its all upto me to get that mug of cha done for everyone.yes.. ive been bluntly told that there is no question of thanking me ever for making the cha,washing up,rounding up the herd etc... bcoz its muy duty to do it.fair enough.

i look at the motley bunch sprawled on muy bed....weary faces,impish exprssions,looks of lethargy,bubbling with energy...and above the steam that rises from the mugs... a wan smile of relief... or grin that warns me that something not too good is being planned.

i survey the array of mugs.at a subconscious level i curse... i have to wash the entire lot...i cant help thinking of all the seniors whove drank out of them... how and why we bought the one which looks like its been whacked from a railway platform tea stall... the story of how another lost its "handle"and one which proved that permanent marker isnt permanent.

i think aroma... cardamom,clove,ginger,basil flavour.
i think diet..."too little" ,"too milky","not sweet enough" ,"i cant stay awake on this"
i think lifestyle... tea at 2 am,11 pm...or 5 am b4 we go to sleep.
i think ppl...who deteseted tea but got addicted,who tried to stay off it but we wore down her reslove.

im leaving college in a few months.
and ill miss this bunch who raid my wardrobe every morning,and rob my stationary every evening to piss me off.
this family of the naka,the insipid,the boka,the STUPID,the brainless,the vacant and the babe trying too hard.

im already fighting tears... wondering who will be there to cradle each others moods every evening.
im smiling...wondering that ill no longer have to be a coffee machine,tea stall and alarm clock in one.
im relived ...knowing that kranti wont be barging into muy room at any goddam unearthly hour to demand a cuppa...

the tea drinkers association.
its just not enough to say that i love the members.
they are an extension of muy family.
just over a cup of cha.